Cop Car
by romancejunkie
Summary: I'm sitting in the backseat of a cop car, here's your one last phone call, I should have called my mom but instead I called you... one-shot, based around FTSK's Cop Car, puckleberry


Based around the song "Cop Car" by Forever the Sickest Kids. It just struck me and I had to keep at it.

_I'm sitting in the backseat of a cop car,_

_Here's your one last phone call,_

_I should have called my mom,_

_But instead I called you…_

Red and blue lights flashed in the rearview mirror and he ran his fingers across the stubble on his chin, punctuating the motion with a groan. He pulled onto the shoulder of the road and turned off the car, awaiting his fate.

"Sir, please step out of the car," the gruff looking officer asked as he looked over Noah's license and registration. "You've been swerving left and right, could you walk a straight line for me?"

Noah knew he wouldn't be able to but he stumbled his way down an imaginary line anyway.

"Follow my finger back and forth," the officer demanded, tracing his forefinger in front of Noah's eyes, "Now say the alphabet backwards."

When Noah didn't make it past the fourth letter, the officer sighed and handed back his license.

"Sir, you're going to have to come with me, is there someone you can call to come pick up your car?"

_And this is how I cope with losing you… _

Her hand scrabbled across the surface of the nightstand in search of her cell phone which was crooning _Defying Gravity_ at an obnoxious volume for this time of night…

"Hullo?" she questioned sleepily, sitting up and glancing at the clock beside her which proclaimed 2:03 A.M. in glaring red.

Silence greeted her before a very unexpected voice spoke, "Uhm, hey. I need some help…"

_Everything here reminds me of you…_

He had been standing in line at a gas station when someone walked past him smelling of orange and ginger and all he could see was _her_. He stormed out and into his truck, his mood falling further when his eyes fell on the gold star sticker permanently affixed to his dashboard. He wondered if she still put the ridiculous things after her signature.

When he got home, a quick glance around his apartment only made matters worse. Everything there reminded him of her. His letter jacket from high school that he swore still smelled like her perfume taunted him from where it had been thrown into the corner. Shrugging it on, he discovered a crumpled ticket from the prom he'd taken her to in one of the pockets, remembering that she'd found the jacket in his truck after they'd left and put it on, refusing to give it back until she decided it no longer 'smelled like boy' or something equally weird and damnably adorable.

He recalled the way she bit her lip coyly when he asked if she wanted him to take her home after the dance was over. They ended up staying out until 3 A.M., lying in the bed of his truck looking at the stars, making promises to each other between kisses. When his friends asked what he'd done after prom, he'd suggestively smirked and made a lewd gesture and she just rolled her eyes at him, knowing that he'd never sacrifice his 'badass' label, but deciding it was alright since she knew better.

Then she got into college and he didn't and those promises fell to pieces. Now she's working through her theatre major three hours away… and he's a Lima loser just like she swore he never would be.

_Couldn't keep you off my mind, so I'll be in jail tonight…_

All in all, he knew that it was entirely and completely his own idiocy that got him into this situation. The memories flashed faster and faster and he grew angrier and angrier…at her, at himself, at the fact that neither of them could make this thing work, that he never told her he loved her before she left, that she never told him goodbye.

So in true Lima-loser style, he grabbed a beer and settled down to reminisce. One beer became two became three became six…and that was when he decided it was time to go out and buy some more. Which is what landed him in the backseat of a cop car, wasting his phone call on someone he would never see again.

The police station was mostly empty as he was processed and settled into a cell for the night. He sat quietly, his buzz worn off by now but the sick, empty feeling still intact.

Noah must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he knew, he heard keys rattling and the unforgiving voice from the night before calling his name. Groggy, he rubbed his eyes and stumbled forward, thinking that his mother must have come for him after all.

But when he opened his eyes, Rachel Berry was standing there, arms crossed, looking deliciously disheveled with red rimmed eyes. He opened his mouth, a million questions racing towards his lips but she merely bit her lip, shrugged and ran towards him. He caught her in his embrace, numb to everything besides the fact that the source of the events of the last six hours was in his arms at last.

_The last six hours have been a blur,_

_They let me out and there you were._

_Thought I wasted my last call,_

_But you bailed me out after all…_

Okay so I'm not as happy with this as expected. But I love this song and it's Puckleberry and it's completed, damn it. No negativity please?


End file.
